


Not a Mere Game

by Nelyo



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: -Ish, ? - Freeform, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst, Breaking and Entering, Canon Compliant, Canonical Character Death, Character Study, Cliffhangers, Gen, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Late Night Conversations, M/M, This is kinda dark, To Be Continued, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, but not really, suicidal idealization
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-06
Updated: 2019-10-06
Packaged: 2020-11-26 02:02:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20922329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nelyo/pseuds/Nelyo
Summary: “Maybe he is mad. I would go mad too, I think, if I lost you. And Maglor and Maedhros have lost all their brothers. All five of them.” As Elros spoke, his voice faded slowly to a mere whisper. A frightened child imagining horrendous things that he would never wish upon himself.Elrond and Elros, curious little elflings as they are, have taken upon themselves to find out about Maedhros' past.





	Not a Mere Game

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Pieces of the Stars](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13146783) by [angrymermaids](https://archiveofourown.org/users/angrymermaids/pseuds/angrymermaids). 
  * Inspired by [Nesting](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8114923) by [LiveOakWithMoss](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LiveOakWithMoss/pseuds/LiveOakWithMoss). 

> So this ended up being almost like a character study of Maedhros through the eyes of Elrond and Elros. Now I don’t know how human children work, let alone elflings, but as a declaration, the twins are not like tiny children in this story, but I wouldn’t say they’re yet teenelfers either. This was inspired by a few stories such as “Pieces of the Stars” by Nibeneth (angrymermaids) and “Nesting” by LiveOakWithMoss amongst other stories by these two amazing authors and others as well.

They had been observing him extremely closely for almost a full cycle of Tilion. Following behind his steps in the shadows, hiding in the curtains when he would turn and glance after himself, pretending they were busying themselves with other matter when questioned about it. They thought themselves so clever. 

It wasn’t until a tall figure stood in front of them blocking their way to the stairs of the fortress that they saw their failure. 

“May I inquire the reason behind the act of tailing one of your lords around the fort?”

The twins were about to take advantage of their young and swift legs and flee but stopped mid-step as the dark-haired elf before them crossed his arms across his chest and looked down upon them with a serious eye. 

“Mmh?” He hummed and although the voice told the twins not to play any games, at the same time it was just as melodic as always. 

“We’re just, umhh-...”, Elros started with a wavering voice. He fiddled with his fingers behind his back and nervously glanced at his brother, who in turn took a reassuring glance at Maglor and spoke:

“We are playing a new game we invented!” Elrond chimed enthusiastically and raised a questioning brow at Elros. It took awhile for him to take the hint but at last he nodded with his brother.

“Is that so?” Maglor asked raising his chin just a fraction to observe the duo fiddling in front of him. Something was definitely amiss. 

The Peredhil nodded all the more eager. 

“What is this new game about?”

The dark-haired boys shared a look of worry before Elros quickly hid it behind the words that tumbled from his mouth. 

“You can’t tell anyone lest you ruin it, okay?”

Maglor hummed again. 

“We’re playing hunters. Great elven hunters with bows and spears and we’re stalking our prey in the woods.” 

For a moment Maglor just stared down at the boys and Elros had time to worry his lie had not hit its mark, but then the tall elf let out a puff of air through his nose and shook his head slightly. 

“Ah, I should have guessed”, he spoke softly and soon his arms fell back down to his sides from their previous place crossed over his chest. It was as if the serious look he had been forcing on just suddenly vanished. Elrond liked this Maglor a lot better. 

Before the twins could reply to the soft smile on their guardian’s porcelain face, he had turned back around and started calmly ascending the stairs to probably retreat to his study. On the sixth step he stopped, however, and looked over his shoulder. The twins couldn’t quite decipher the look upon Maglor’s face, it was a mixture of gentle smile and sad eyes, melancholy but at the same time fondness.

“Just remember, it is not a deer you’re hunting. It’s a bear and it can do harm if provoked too much.”

After that, he quickly climbed the rest of the stairs and vanished behind a corner. 

The twins were left in silence in the light of the fireplace. 

Neither of them moved for a long while before a shiver ran down Elrond’s spine and finally he turned to face his brother. They wore a similar expression on their faces. Fright. Neither did truly know whether they had reason to be so frightened but something about the way Maglor had said those simple words, that odd metaphor, was chilling. 

Without words both elflings knew the other’s thoughts concerning the “game” they had been playing. With just that one eerie warning the twins abandoned the quest and for the rest of the evening they played in the backyard of the fort. 

…

Later that night, when Maglor had finished singing his lullaby and wished goodnight to the boys, Elros turned to his brother with a whisper. 

“I think we should still investigate.”

“What? Didn’t you hear what uncle Maglor said?” Elrond answered. He had a puzzled, even a fearful expression on his face, but Elros paid no heed to it. 

“What would Maedhros do to us?” He asked in return. 

“He’s scary and gets angry without reason sometimes. Remember when he just suddenly threw that bottle at Maglor when he had been drinking?”

“Well, yes, but that doesn’t mean he would do so to us. He’s just fine when he teaches me to fight with a sword.”

Elrond pondered that for a moment and when the silence stretched to its limits, Elros spoke again.

“Do you not want to know what happened to him? His hand, or the lack of it, in this case, I could have believed to be a simple battle injury, yes, but you were standing right next to me when he came in after that awful rainfall with his hair dripping behind his back and you saw his ears too. They were not pointy anymore, they had been… gnawed on!” 

At his brother’s raised voice Elrond twitched a bit but then silently nodded. Elros looked pleased. They were both highly talented speakers, Elros was very able to capture his audience with his intensive words and often swayed his brother’s mind with them. 

“And all those scars on his face and neck. I wonder how much is hidden underneath his clothes. We have to know what happened!” 

With a silent sigh Elrond nodded one last time and determination flicked across his face. 

“Tonight, after midnight we will sneak into his chambers and try to find out whatever we can. We know he’s never in his bedroom at this time. He is usually in the great hall being pathetic and miserable.”

“Okay. But what if we do get caught?” Elrond asked, but fear no longer lingered in his voice. 

“Then”, Elros was silent for a moment before continuing, “remember when Maglor once told us the reason for Maedhros behaving the way he does?” 

“Yes. He said that Maedhros once lost someone he loved dearly and is still grieving.”

“Exactly. And do you remember the name of his lover?” 

Elrond shook his head. 

“_Finno_. Maglor said it was Finno. And he told us to never say that name in front of Maedhros or anyone else, remember?” Elros observed his brother’s face and saw the uncertainty once again take root in his eyes. He huffed out a breath and rolled his eyes at his brother. It was clear Elrond was a healer and not a fighter. 

“If Maedhros loses it and gets mad at us, then we simply use _ Finno _ against him. The way Maglor said it, it is clear that their love is a secret. We could tell him that we will tell everyone!” Elrond looked horrified. 

“Or we could just scream for Maglor.” 

With that quick addition, Elrond finally nodded again. 

The thin moon shone through the window in the twins’ bedroom as they waited. The longer the quiet stretched, the harder it was for both elflings to keep their eyes open. They had a cause, they couldn’t succumb to something as mundane as sleep!

“Do you think he would just tell us if we asked?” Elrond whispered after a while to stay awake. 

“Has he ever told us anything personal? He’s always so distant, so unlike Maglor. Do you think Maglor would tell us if we asked him?”

Elrond thought about the question before answering: “He didn’t tell us any more about that Finno-woman even though we tried asking him. And when we were little we asked about his hand and Maglor only said that Maedhros was injured long ago. I don’t think he’d tell us any more now.”

Elros hummed at that. Maybe his brother was right: this was the correct way of doing things. They would go to Maedhros’ chambers tonight.

“Do you think Maglor still loves him? Of course he is his brother, but Maedhros is… he’s cruel. Towards Maglor. And us. He speaks of evil things even as he knows they will upset Maglor. Remember when he accused Maglor of the fate of-,” Elros hummed while trying to get a grasp of the Quenyan name unfamiliar for his tongue. 

“Telvo”, Elrond filled in quietly. 

Both remembered the day. It had been just like any ordinary day, save when the twins arrived to have their evening meal, their eyes were forced upon a very distressed scene. Maglor and Maedhros were having an argument, which wasn’t an uncommon sight to behold in the fort. As the boys had settled on their seats at the long table, however, a distraught cry caught their attention. 

_ As their eyes landed upon the two brothers at the end of the table, one seated upon a stool and one looming over him with his palm pressed on the wooden surface of the table, they noticed something clearly amiss. _

_ Maedhros was slightly swaying on his feet even as he leaned on the table with his good hand. It was nothing out of the ordinary, he had probably been drowning himself in the wine cellar again. But the way the brothers measured each other with a flaming gaze, was what caught the Peredhil’s attention. _

_ They couldn’t tell which one had let out such a cry. Both were clad in furrowed brows and harsh lines, which the flickering light from the fireplace behind them seemed to only sharpen. Even Maglor’s soft and beautiful face had become hard and unforgiving. Maybe it was what he looked like truly, when he allowed his mask to slip. _

_ The twins wondered if their guardians had even noticed them, and if they hadn’t, which they hoped for, they were not about to make their presence known. _

_ “You can not truly believe so”, Maglor’s voice unexpectedly broke the tense silence. _

_ Neither Elros nor Elrond could decipher the tone in which the words were spoken. _

_ “I do, and I will say so again. Had you not followed our father and instead stood with me, stood against leaving our cousins, surely our brother would be standing with us now.” _

_ “You have not the power to know such a thing. Please, Nelyo, you do not know which you speak of. You are drunk and being cruel towards me only out of spite.” _

_ Maglor held sadness in his voice and eyes, but his lips were tight as he spoke. His jaw clenched as if he was trying to control himself better. Both twins knew how harsh would be the coming blow as Maedhros straightened to his full height and towered over his shorter brother. _

_ “Because of you, Telvo is dead.” His voice was like freezing ice, cutting those foul words into the air like a sword cuts one’s flesh. _

_ In an instant Maglor was on his feet and his rise was accompanied with the clutter of the stool flying backwards with his vigour. Elrond could only yelp as he witnessed Maglor surging forward, hand on his brother’s neck. Maedhros fell abruptly back, Maglor kneeling over him with fire in his eyes. _

_ “Do not dare accuse me of that. It was no-one else’s but our father’s fault!” He snarled between clenched teeth. _

_ The Peredhil unconsciously pressed closer together, Elros seeking out his brother’s hand to hold. They were shivering, but yet they were unable to turn away from the scene. _

_ Maedhros wasn’t trying to throw his brother off. He was simply lying on the cold stone floor, both arms spread wide, as his brother was at his neck. _

_ “Thank Eru, Pityo died as well so he was freed of the misery and sordidness of this world.” Maedhros spat the words against his younger brother’s face as his voice was succumbed by the hands pressing on his neck. _

_ Maglor groaned, furious. For a moment his hold of Maedhros tightened, until he let go with a cry. His knee was still pressed upon the red-haired’s chest as he heaved for breath. _

_ “You can not make me end your own suffering no matter what you would say. You and I, the last of the sons of Fëanáro, are doomed to dwell here until we find what is ours and only then can we rest, if rest is a mercy that is not yet denied of us for all the malice we have brought upon this world. All our brothers are gone, Nelyo, surely you know that. No amount of quilt or bitterness shall change that.” Maglor’s voice was once again as it customarily was: soft and melodic, void of any of the malice that he spoke of. _

_ Like nothing had happened between the last sons of Fëanor, Maglor rose, dusted his brocade tunic and walked to fetch food for the shaking elflings. Maedhros scrambled slowly to his feet and walked up the stairs into his chambers. _

They shuddered at the memory.

“But even after that, Maglor was never cruel towards Maedhros.” Elrond whispered. His brother nodded. 

“And he is not always that foul. His mood can change so fast that it’s almost frightening, but when he is feeling alright, he is not bad. Maglor has said that Maedhros is just ill, hasn’t he?” Elros responded and yet again the other brother nodded. 

“Do you think he is ill because of Finno?” Elros continued after a while of silence. “You told me you read that some elves can die from the sorrow of losing someone they love.”

“He doesn’t seem like he’s dying. He’s just—”, Elrond flailed his hands around, “mad. Madness is an illness.”

“Maybe he is mad. I would go mad too, I think, if I lost you. And Maglor and Maedhros have lost_ all _their brothers. All five of them.” As Elros spoke, his voice faded slowly to a mere whisper. A frightened child imagining horrendous things that he would never wish upon himself.

Elrond, huddled next to his brother in bed, closed his arms around him and hummed a reassuring tune in his ear. “I’m not going anywhere. Except to find out Maedhros’ secrets! Come on!” 

Elrond hopped from under his blankets and grabbed Elros’ hand while doing so. He yanked his brother up and both moved toward their room’s door with serious faces. They had to focus, have eyes on the backs of their necks, so no-one could surprise them. They were like hawks, silent predators as their muffled steps moved them through the doorframe into the darkened hallway. 

“I can’t hear anything”, Elrond whispered barely above the hearing range. Everything was completely silent, not even the wind howled outside the castle’s stone walls. The loudest noise the twins heard was a petite piece of pebble bouncing along the corridor as Elros’ toes kicked it by accident. Even that small sound was enough to stir panic in the boys’ minds. 

Illuminated only by the cold light of the moon the twins made their way towards Maedhros’ chambers. On their left resided the staircase leading down a story to the main hall with the big hearth and a long table able to fit almost half of the soldiers in the hold. Occasionally, given the right reason, the Lords would throw quite the feasts and invite everyone residing within the walls of the fortress to celebrate with them.

Straight ahead the corridor split to left, where Maglor’s chambers were located, and to the right, where Maedhros resided. The boys rounded the corner and were met face to face with a dark wooden door shut tight. Neither had ever seen the Noldo’s bed chamber or even his study, for they were not permitted to dwell around this corridor. Maedhros was so unlike Maglor, who always welcomed the boys to his study if he was not in the midst of something of terrible importance. 

The twins stopped and crouched in front of the door. 

“What now? Do we just go in?” Elrond asked as quiet as he could. 

“Hmm”, Elros hummed in response, “I guess so.”

He slowly reached out his hand and grabbed the handle of the door. 

Holding his breath he gently pushed. 

Neither dared to move as the door clicked open.

Elros pushed the door ever so slightly, only to peek inside the room and see a fraction of it darkened. He nodded to his brother and with courage born from curiosity opened the door so he and Elrond could slip inside. 

The room was dim and stuffy. Thick, faded burgundy curtains allowed only a small sliver of silver light enter through the windows they were covering. The air was heavy with the smell of wine and candle smoke. It almost made the boys’ eyes water. A dying fire was in the fireplace in the corner of the room. 

A big bed was on the furthest wall. It was made of heavy wood and had tall ornamented pillars on each of the four corners. The heavy counterpane in the same shade of red as the curtains, was perfectly made. Not even the slightest indent disturbed the impeccable harmony of the bed, the only out-of-place element being the small layer of dust that had settled on top of it all. 

An oaken writing desk occupied the opposite wall of the bed. That was what Elrond and Elros set as their destination. 

“You look through those drawers, I’ll search the top”, Elros instructed and was glad to find his brother following without questions. As Elrond set on his task, Elros took in the sight of the top of the desk. There was a toppled-over wine glass at the edge, made by a gentle hand out of what the elfling assumed was gold. There was little of the dark liquid dripping down the side of the desk. In the middle, next to a simple candle was a letter. It was too dark for the young elf to read what it said, but when the young elf took it in his small hand he was sure it had gotten wet at some point in its life, for now the paper felt worn and was slightly rumpled. 

The door behind them closed. 

Elrond slammed a drawer shut and Elros was so alarmed by the sound that with a small cry his whole body flinched violently and to his dismay the frail paper of the letter he was holding ripped in two. 

The Peredhil’s eyes went towards the door. Next to it, on the hinged side, stood a tall, dark figure. Even in the dim light the twins knew exactly who was pointing a dagger at them in the corner of the room. 

“What”, he rasped and took a step forward, “are you doing here?” The elegant blade was held in his left hand like it was part of him. 

Neither of the twins were able to let any words out of their mouths. They huddled together and Elros fisted the torn paper in his trembling hands. 

Maedhros’ eyes travelled down from the elflings’ scared faces to the fingers that had rampaged through his belongings, and his eyes filled with such sorrow and rage the twins had to look elsewhere. 

In the blink of an eye the great Noldo was before them and his hand raised the dagger in the air so swiftly the children had barely time to register his closeness and shy away. What Elros and Elrond feared, though, came not. Eyes closed, they could hear the dagger clatter against the stone floor and Elros felt the letter being torn away from his fingers. 

The twins scattered back and Elros was thrown on his backside by Elrond falling against his chest in their haste to get away. Both tried to push on and back away as far as possible from the mad elf threatening them. They were, however, stopped promptly by the wall behind their backs. 

It was Elrond, who first noticed the absence of the person who should have been looming over them a dagger in hand. As his panicked eyes searched the room, he was surprised to find the usually tall elf on his level. 

He couldn’t tear his eyes away as he nudged against his brother and then nodded towards the elf in front of them. Elros quit his squirming and stilled with his brother, both staring wide-eyed at Maedhros. 

He was kneeling on the floor. It was odd to see the slim, tall figure folded into something so small, so pathetic. He was curled in on himself, elbows pressed tight against his sides as his hand gripped the paper against his bare chest. It seemed almost painful, how hard his muscles were trembling and clenching, all save his hand, which held the letter remarkably gently. Yet his face was what terrified the twins the most. With hair ruffled like a wildfire, eyes pressed shut and mouth twisted into such an awful grimace it pulled on the scars littering his face and contorted it even more, he looked just like the monster he was in some of the nightmares the twins had seen about the Fëanorians slaughtering their family. 

But he was not angry, concluded Elrond. It was sorrow that twisted his once-porcelain face into that of a beast.

The longer they looked, the longer the moment stretched on, the more unsure the twins became of what to do. They watched, perplexed, as their grim guardian crumbled to pieces in front of them. They wouldn’t have called it weeping, for no sound escaped Maedhros’ throat and no tears flowed down his hollowed cheeks. 

“I’m—”, a small voice broke the distressing atmosphere, “I’m sorry I tore it.” 

Elrond looked at his brother, scared of the reaction those words would have on the broken down elf. He held his breath as he heard Maedhros muttering something under his breath. It was disorderly and scattered with his erratic breathing, but eventually he was able to make sense of the words.

“All I had left”, he whispered holding the crumpled paper above his heart, “everything I had.” His right hand was posed right next to the left as if he was holding the letter with both his hands. The stump looked awkward where it was pressed against the fingers of his good hand. 

Elrond met his brother’s gaze and was slightly taken aback by its intensity. He couldn’t interpret the meaning behind it. 

“Was that from your lover?” Elros asked with a more firm voice, “Finno?” 

The words were almost like an arrow shot at Maedhros. His bloodshot eyes were on the twins in an instant, his expression shocked as his body seemed to be in a complete lockdown. Not a single muscle moved, not even a blink of an eye was seen as the Noldo stared down the Peredhil. 

They were not sure if he was breathing. 

They were not sure if they were breathing themselves. 

Like all the life had left the room with those simple words.

Elros didn’t know what he had expected to get in return, but it surely wasn’t what he got. 

“How—”, he gasped for breath but continued with a frail voice, “how do you know?”

With the look Maedhros gave them, something broke inside the elflings. 

This was not the elf they feared. This person kneeling in front of them was someone completely else. Maybe they had been wrong all along, maybe this was what Maedhros truly was, maybe all the anger was his mask. The twins couldn’t know for certain, but for this moment all that Maedhros was, was a heartbroken, maybe a tad mad elf lamenting on the cold floor in front of them. 

“Maglor told us”, Elrond chimed in and tried to sound as brave as his brother. 

Maedhros stared at them for long. He didn’t say anything. Elrond felt Elros start fidgeting again under the intense scrutiny. He felt slightly troubled as well — why wasn’t the tall elf saying anything? He seemed like he was deep in thought, just letting his gaze rest where it had landed, which just happened to be the twins. Simultaneously it felt like he was staring straight into their fëa. 

After what could have been an eternity, Maedhros rose silently. The letter was held gracefully in his left hand against his chest. His face was void of any emotion he had shown earlier. Lightly he stepped to the side and raised his right hand to point at the general direction of the door. 

“Leave”, his voice sounded weary. 

Elros nodded quickly and rose to his feet. He pulled Elrond up with him by the armpit and glared at his brother for the lack of initiative. He briefly noticed Elrond’s furrowed brows and firm target of his eyes, and while remaining standing still against the wall, he followed his brother’s gaze. 

A small gasp escaped his lips.

Maedhros had stepped on the dagger. 

He was still standing on it, the blade luckily on its side, but the edge had sliced into his bare foot and the wound was slowly weeping red onto the floor. Elros quickly looked up at the Noldo’s face and fear awoke yet again in his heart. Maedhros didn’t look like had paid any heed to the metal incising his skin. Still his gaze was upon the Peredhil, now lacking the intensity from before. Now it looked only blank. His arm was still raised at the door, the stump hovering in the air, pointing direction like a signpost. 

“Leave”, he reiterated.

Elros pulled at his brother, who clearly felt the need, maybe even the responsibility to help the wounded elf. He’d only started studying at the infirmary a few moons ago, but it was clear it was his calling. 

Reluctantly Elrond followed his brother out the door and into their own bed chamber. 

They felt defeated, they had had a mission, an important quest, and they had failed. Nothing was solved, except that Maedhros truly had loved Finno before she died, and that was why he was miserable and pathetic most days and behaved mad from time to time.

The Peredhil climbed back into their bed. 

Neither spoke, nor did they sleep very well that night. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading my first published fic here! I do hope you enjoyed it. I am thinking of making this into a series, or even continuing this fic, but we'll see.
> 
> Go read the fics I mentioned earlier, as they have been great inspiration for me! 
> 
> I would greatly appreciate feedback from you guys. <3


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